


And So We Grieve

by thewightknight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place after Hawke stays behind in the Fade in <i>Here Lies the Abyss</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So We Grieve

If only he would say something, anything. He’d been silent when she knocked on the door to his room, silent when she entered. He hadn’t said a word as she crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. Nothing as she put her hand on his shoulder, unsure of anything she could say. Instead he’d turned into her, arms wrapping around her, shaking his entire body and hers with silent sobs. 

Blame, curses - anything but this. It was her fault. She was the leader. She should have led better. She should have found some other way, a way that didn’t mean leaving someone behind to die alone in the Fade. 

She stroked his hair, still not able to find any words herself so resorting to touch for comfort. What else was there, after all? Nothing she could say or do now would make things right. So she did the only thing she could, holding him close to her. 

After some untold time his shudders subsided, and he relaxed into her, head cradled on her shoulder, forehead warm against her neck. His hair had come undone from its tie and had fallen down across his face, and she smoothed it back, carding it between her fingers as she brushed it away from his temple. He sighed, leaning in to her caress, and his lips brushed her neck as he moved. A gasp escaped her lips at the sensation and her fingers clenched, tugging at the hair between them. His arms tightened around her in response and she flushed, forcing her fingers to relax. He didn’t loosen his embrace, though, and after a moment she felt lips brush along her neck again. 

The first touch had been an accident, she was sure, but the second most assuredly was not. Feather light kisses travelled up from her shoulder to the pulse point behind her ear and back again, and then he paused, drew back. Standing, she was a head taller than him, but seated next to him they were eye to eye, and she met his gaze and the question there, leaning in, brushing her lips against his, parting them as he responded with fervor. The kisses continued, their intensity continuing to increase, breathing grown ragged, hearts pounding together as they expressed in touch what they could not say in words. They broke apart only to remove the layers of clothing between them in a frantic scramble, their hands finding places that made each other gasp and moan even in their haste. 

Her fingers traced the flow of his muscles through his arms, across his chest, now gloriously bare to her eyes, no longer imagined. Her breath caught and she grasped his arms as he lifted her, laying her across the mattress, and when he laid himself on top of her, she could feel his shaft hard and throbbing against her stomach. Burying her hands in his hair, she drew him down into another kiss, tongue demanding, rolling her hips up against him, swallowing his groans at her movements. Wanting more, she wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing against his length until he cried out, a wordless exclamation, then she reached down and guided him inside her at last.

************

She gathered herself together after he drifted off. Her hair pins were scattered who knows where, lost in the dim light from the dying fire, so she tamed her mane into a simple plait, sitting on the edge of the bed. She eased off the mattress, and he turned in his sleep, his brow furrowing. She held her breath, and after a few moments he grew still again. She dressed quietly so as not to disturb his slumber, tiptoeing out of the room with her boots in hand. He murmured something as slipped through the doorway, just one word, not “Inquisitor” or “Herald” but “Evelyn,” a smile on his lips. She paused, but nothing else was forthcoming, so she closed the door with care and tiptoed down the hallway. Sitting on the top of the stairs, she donned her boots, taking deep breaths in the process, trying to compose herself before making her way down to the main floor of the tavern.

Tomorrow, she would greet him with a smile for a shield, nod as he apologized, said again how he was bad at relationships. She would agree that nothing had changed, that they were still friends, and that friends comforted each other. She would wall up that part of her heart again and go on pretending that friendship was enough, not allowing herself to dream that he might someday want more, except for those few times when she awoke late at night, when she was alone and there was no one to see her cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
